


generosity of spirit

by avocadodreamin



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 5 Things, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avocadodreamin/pseuds/avocadodreamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the galaxy's first ever recovering stormtrooper comes with some surprising readjustments, but Poe's not giving up on Finn just yet.</p>
<p>Or 5 times Poe gives Finn something he needs, and 1 thing Finn gives Poe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. food

The Resistance didn’t keep a schedule.

At first, Finn didn’t have the time or energy to notice. His own body refused to follow anything resembling a schedule. After waking up from major spinal surgery and a weeks-long coma, it paid no heed at all to Finn’s desire for normality. Sometimes it’d last a few hours at a time without passing out, but at others, Finn could only power through a meal, a conversation, and a couple of smiles before his eyes drifted closed against his will. 

Most of the time he woke up alone. On good days, though, days like the one when he first woke up, there was a familiar smile waiting to greet him when he opened his eyes. On good days, he woke up to the sound of BB-8 whistling and whirring away next to his bed, embellishing some story Poe’s telling the med staff while he waited for Finn to come around. Poe came by when he could, he said, smiling apologetically when that was less often than he’d like.

It was always less often than Finn would like, but maybe more often than Finn deserved.

Once his body stopped sabotaging his attempts to stay awake throughout the daylight hours, Finn took a while to figure out a routine for himself. The only regular occurrences in his life were as follows:

The sun that D’Qar orbits rose at about 6 am and set at about 7 pm.  
His vitals were checked three times a day: mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and midnight.  
Three square meals were served at the canteen at the same hours every day.

It didn’t take Finn long to set his body clock to wake up at the sunrise. The medical staff were bemused by this, but the Order had been very, very strict about lights out and waking up. The hardest part was going back to sleep after the midnight check-up. He found it harder to go to sleep in the dark, shadows of the past lurking in the darkness and silence. He often had nightmares in the wee hours of the morning. He’d learned to wake up quiet, though, one hand muffled over his mouth in case he screamed. At least he had the routine, knew when he had to be awake each morning. Knew how many more hours of night he had to endure.

It was a hard walk to the canteen, but it was one Finn was determined to make. He dragged himself down there and back exactly on time three times a day like clockwork. It was nice, because being on time meant he got first choice of food (and there was _so much choice_ , really, it was overwhelming sometimes, but he found that if he stuck with the food that they’d brought him when he was still too weak to make the walk on his own, there weren’t too many surprises, pleasant or unpleasant). It was also nice because sometimes he saw Poe in the canteen, and Poe would wave him over and let him sit with the other pilots. They tended to talk past Finn, discussing work and flights and things Finn couldn’t connect with. Poe always asked how he was doing, though, always told a story Finn would find interesting, sometimes knocked his knee against Finn’s or clapped Finn’s shoulder. When Finn felt like he might collapse on his way to the canteen, it was the thought that he might find Poe there that drove him forwards.

Poe still came by when he could. Finn learned to read what kind of day Poe’d had in the slope of his shoulders, the strength of his smile, the droop of his eyes. The best days were the ones when Poe was tired but happy, his smile warmer as his inhibitions dropped. When he’d been on a successful mission and he was still glowing, but the adrenaline was ebbing away, leaving joy and tenderness in its wake.

It was a bad day for both of them when Finn missed dinner because of physiotherapy.

The doctors really tried to keep Finn’s training regular, but they were always stretched thin. When medical emergencies arose, Finn’s PT just wasn’t as high a priority. Finn understood, he did, but that didn’t stop the rising frustration as hours passed with no indication of when his session would be. The frustration wasn’t helped by the absence of Poe. Finn knew that he was okay, he’d heard some other pilots talking about it, but the mission of the night before clearly hadn’t gone well, and Finn couldn’t help the worry twisting in his gut. Finally, an hour before dinnertime, a doctor came to fetch him. With both of them tired and out of sorts, the session went on too long and too hard. Finn’s back ached when he returned to his bed. He tried to get moving, to walk to the canteen before it closed, but he could only make it down one corridor before his back seized up. He leaned against a wall for ten minutes before he could move again. Accepting defeat, he hobbled back to his bed and turned out the lights. He tried to force himself to sleep, but his own adherence to routine meant that sleep didn’t come until his usual lights-out time of 10 pm.

Finn did manage to wake himself at midnight, just in time for his vitals check. Only it didn’t come. There was soft rustling around him, like leaves in the wind, and every so often a cough or a pained groan would remind him of just how much company he had that night. In all that sound, it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t notice the figure by his bed at first. He was looking at the clock, calculating the number of hours until he could fill his empty stomach (six hours and fifty six minutes, he’d gone longer, he could make it) when the light there shifted, falling against soft curls that hung low over a wrinkled forehead.

“Didn’t think you’d be awake.” Poe’s voice drifted to Finn over the rustling. It was low and tense, but it still fell on Finn’s ears like honey. Finn sat up immediately, then tensed as every muscle in his back protested. “Hey, easy, easy,” Poe soothed. He leaned forwards and rested a hand on Finn’s shoulder, guiding him back down, then helped Finn raise the bed to make sitting easier.

“You didn’t come by after the mission,” Finn said once he was settled. He knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say, eyes widening as Poe winced. “It’s okay, I know you’re busy…”

“Nah, can’t even use that excuse today,” Poe said quietly. Ran a hand through his curls and drooped in his chair. His shoulder were tense, his mouth a hard line. Finn had the urge to run his thumb over Poe’s thin lips, loosen them. “There’s just...too much in here. Thought I’d see you at dinner.”

“PT ran long,” Finn explained. Shrugged a shoulder, then regretted it.

“Seems like it ran kinda hard, too. They’re treating you okay here, right?” Poe asked, concern laced through his words. Finn’s eyes stung at the kindness.

“Of course,” Finn replied. “I can take way more than this, Poe, don’t worry.” It was the wrong thing to say again, it must’ve been, because Poe winced like he’d been burned. “Sorry…”

“Not your fault,” Poe said with a little smile. He slunk down in the chair and propped his feet up on the edge of Finn’s bed, then pulled something out of his pocket. Finn watched in fascination as Poe unwrapped it and bit in - a bar of some kind, Finn thought. It looked like the ration bars that troopers used to get for emergencies if they were stranded on a planet.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Huh?” Poe hummed around his full mouth. He swallowed and looked at the rest of the bar, frowning. “Just a regular bar, man. Muesli, I think.”

“It’s not an emergency,” Finn said with a little frown. How did the Resistance have the resources to give out food at unscheduled meal times? 

“No?” Poe replied, confused. “This is from a pack I have in my quarters. Sometimes I get hungry between meals.” He shrugged, and Finn’s frown deepened.

“Between meals?” he asked. His body, his traitorous body, chose that moment to embarrass him. His stomach rumbled loudly. The effect on Poe was instantaneous. His feet dropped from the bed, elbows hitting his knees as he leaned forwards, eyes dark and earnest as they peered into Finn’s.

“Finn, did you request any food when they made you miss dinner?” he asked, no honey now in his sharp voice. Finn dropped his gaze and shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled lamely to his knees. He knew he’d done something wrong again, he could see it in how angry Poe was, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. There were lots of people more hurt than him in medical now, and everybody else still needed feeding, and requesting meals seemed _wrong_ when he was relatively healthy. Unfathomable.

“I swear,” Poe was muttering, gripping Finn’s bed sheets. “Finn, I swear one day I’m going to hit the First Order so hard they’ll never see straight again.” Finn laughed at that.

“The whole First Order, huh?” he asked lightly. Poe regarded him for a moment before shifting back again, rearranging his features into a smile that didn’t entirely reach his eyes yet.

“Don’t worry about it,” Poe said with an easy drawl, then, “here, try this.” He held out the bar in his hand, a bite missing and the plastic opening around it like a flower. Finn stared at it.

“It’s yours,” he breathed.

“It’s a food bar, Finn. I have, like, ten more back in my room. Just take a bite and see if you like it,” Poe said. His patience, usually infinite, seemed to be slipping tonight in the wake of whatever had happened to fill up the med bay and fill his shoulders with tension. Finn would do anything to ease the burden. He accepted the bar and took a bite.

“It’s good,” he said, genuinely surprised. There was a sweetness to the bar, and the sharp tang of berries burst against his tongue. He swallowed down the saliva in his mouth, fought the urge to take another bite, and held out the half-eaten bar to Poe.

Poe reached out and closed his fingers around Finn’s, trapping the bar in Finn’s fingers. “It’s yours,” he said, an amused quirk lifting the side of his mouth. He brought up his other hand, engulfing Finn’s hand and the bar for a moment. “You’re allowed to eat, Finn. Whenever you want. You’re allowed to want that.”

“Yeah?” Finn nodded. “Yeah, okay. I will next time. I swear.”

“Good,” Poe said. His hands slipped away from Finn’s, and suddenly Finn’s whole body felt colder for their loss. He brought the bar up to his mouth and took another bite. “Don’t want you setting back your recovery and getting stuck in here any longer than you gotta be, buddy.”

Finn didn’t have a response to that, so he just nodded and finished the bar, Poe watching every bite.


	2. truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The First Order lied to Finn his entire life. Now he has trouble telling fact from fiction.

Even after Finn had met The Han Solo, War Criminal, and The Princess Leia Organa, whose skill in military operations had left even Phasma afraid, the first time he saw Luke Skywalker came as a shock.

He was still in the infirmary when Jessika Pava sidled in just before lights out, holding a holo device and bearing a smile. Poe couldn’t come, she said, out on a mission, but he wanted someone friendly to tell Finn that he was finally going to get to talk to Rey. Finn’s grin nearly split his face when he heard, and Jess chuckled at him and yanked her chair right up next to him, wanting to see the famous Jedi girl for herself. After a brief introduction, she took one look at the expression on Rey’s face and snorted.

“Yeah, okay, I can see I’m not needed here. Have a fun chat. Finn, yell for me when you’re done,” she said amicably, then left Finn alone with Rey.

“I’m so glad you’re alright,” Rey said, voice aching with sincerity. “I’m so sorry I had to leave, Finn, but it was such an important mission, and there aren’t any other young people who are...well, who are, you know…”

“Jedi like you?” Finn asked. His chest felt fit to burst with pride. “You’re amazing, Rey. Amazing.”

“I can’t talk long,” Rey said sadly. “The First Order might be able to track the signal if we keep the channel open more than a few minutes. I want to hear all about the Resistance.”

“I want to hear all about Jedi training,” Finn responded, a little breathless in his awe. “You’re training with _Luke Skywalker_. I mean, the guy’s a...a legend.” Rey snorted.

“Well, he’s a legendary pain in my backside, anyway,” she grumbled. Finn could hear a voice dissenting in the background and his heart gave a sickly thump.

“Was...was that…” he began. Rey looked at him, laughed, and gestured to someone to her left.

“Come meet my friend, the man who saved my life,” she said insistently. A grey-clad arm came into view and she tugged at it and then...then he was there. Skywalker. Finn’s jaw actually dropped. He was just a man, old and bearded, with eyes just like his sister’s that seemed to pierce Finn’s even in the grainy blue light of the holo.

“It’s a pleasure and an honour to meet a hero of the Resistance,” Luke Skywalker said gravely. Finn’s jaw worked for a moment, but he couldn’t make a sound. “I’ve never met anyone who could resist Stormtrooper training before. You are a truly remarkable young man, Finn. And Rey is a remarkable young lady.”

“If I’m so remarkable, how come I can’t even float a rock yet?” Rey asked. Her frown was tight and impatient.

“It will come. You just need more practice,” Luke Skywalker said calmly. “More meditation, more focus, less getting distracted by a wave on the ocean.”

“But they’re so _beautiful_ ,” Rey muttered, and Luke Skywalker laughed. Luke Skywalker could _laugh_.

“I didn’t know you could laugh,” Finn blurted out. Rey looked scandalized, and Luke Skywalker gave him a sidelong look through the holo.

“I’m sure there are a great many things you’ve learned about me through your Stormtrooper training, my friend. I can assure you that very few of them are likely to be true, though I can hardly blame you for believing them,” Luke Skywalker said gently. Finn blushed, but a sharp knock on the door interrupted his shame. He turned to the door to see Jess poking her head in.

“Thirty seconds,” Jess said, then ducked out again. Finn sighed.

“I have to go in a few seconds,” he said, giving Luke Skywalker another glance before fixing his eyes on Rey. “Rey, take care of yourself out there, please. You’ve got to come back safe.”

“You too. Don’t push yourself too hard. I know you’ll want to, but you need to be in one piece if we’re going to have more adventures together,” she said with a mischievous grin. It slid off her face when Finn looked at the clock. “Be careful, Finn.”

“You too. I’ll see you...soon,” Finn said finally, before shutting off the holo. The room fell silent and dark and for a moment Finn felt like he would suffocate in it.

“I’m sorry,” said Jessika’s voice as light from the corridor slid inside, Jess sliding in with it. Finn shrugged.

“It was good to see her,” he said in a choked voice.

“That’s Poe’s holo, I need it back,” Jessika said after a moment’s silence. She thumped a hand against Finn’s shoulder once. “He’ll be back soon.”

“Right. Yeah, of course,” Finn said, handing the holo over. “Thanks, Jess, I really mean it.”

“No problem, hot stuff,” Jessika replied with a wink before walking out, leaving Finn alone in the quiet.

 

 

When Poe showed up at the mess hall the next day, there was no tension in his shoulders, and his eyes crinkled as he greeted Finn with a smile. Finn lurched out of his seat to wrap his arms around Poe’s shoulders, pressing his fingers tightly against the orange flight suit, and Poe humored him for a few seconds longer than he probably needed to before pulling back, one hand braced on Finn’s shoulder.

“Hey, buddy. Looking good! You’re moving much faster now,” Poe said approvingly. His brown eyes were warm on Finn’s face. Finn attempted a smile. He wanted to feel it, but despite the warmth that blossomed in his chest at the sight of Poe’s face, the floor was still unsteady under his feet. He’d thought (hoped) that Poe returning would make something feel stable again.

“The training has been going better,” Finn replied as they sat down side by side. The press of Poe’s arm against his was grounding. “Forget about me, though, your mission has to be more interesting than me running around the gym. What happened?”

“Can you actually run now?” Poe asked, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Figure of speech,” Finn mumbled in reply. He pushed his plate across and Poe nodded in wordless thanks, picking food off it. Out of the corner of his eye, Finn could see Jessika roll her eyes.

“Stop obsessing over Finn and tell us about your mission,” she ordered, throwing some kind of small vegetable at her commanding officer. Finn’s stomach flipped queasily. He knew it was commonplace here, but every time someone disrespected their superiors he half expected them to be dragged away.

“It wasn’t that exciting,” Poe mumbled around a mouthful of meat. He swallowed and grimaced. “Babysitting a Senator, mostly. Old friend of the Generals, goes by Wicket.”

“The Ewok Senator?” Snap asked, at the same time as Finn gasped, “the terrorist?”

Silence fell around them for a moment, and Finn’s head spun dangerously.

“You mean the freedom fighter,” Jessika snapped finally. Finn could see Poe shaking his head at her, and his shoulders hunched involuntarily, preparing for an attack. “The Senator who did everything in his power to help his world after the Death Star nearly destroyed it-”

“The guy who single-handedly gave Ewoks the power to run their own government?” Snap continued, eyes blazing.

“Guys, go easy on him,” Poe interrupted smoothly. “You’re hardly historians.”

“It’s fine,” Finn muttered to the suddenly unappetizing food on his tray. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to insult anyone. I just remembered I have to...clean my bunk. I left my stuff everywhere, and my roommate hates that. I’ll see you later.” He shoved his chair back, wincing at the scrape of its metal feet against the stone floor and the turn of heads in his direction. His legs felt like lead and his head felt like a cloud as he stormed out, furious and frustrated with himself.

“Hey. Finn, come on, slow down,” a voice called behind him, slightly out of breath. Poe. Finn thought of speeding up for a moment, but his back twinged and that would be unkind after Poe had just defended him, so he slowed his steps a fraction to let his friend catch up. “I’m sorry those guys were on your back, but they were just fired up. Pilots can get that way,” Poe said softly when he reached Finn, falling into step beside him.

“They were right,” Finn replied. He kept his eyes trained ahead of him, his back ramrod straight. “I don’t know anything.”

“Come on, that’s not true,” Poe soothed. “Buddy. Finn. Slow down and talk to me.” he placed a gentle hand on Finn’s elbow and Finn’s jaw tensed.

“I can’t, I have to-”

“You can’t use that garbage excuse about cleaning on me, Finn, I’ve seen your bunk. You don’t have enough stuff to leave everywhere, and you do full-on hospital corners on your bed every time you leave the room. I could eat off your floor,” Poe said, his words staccato as he ran out of breath. “Oh, will you just... _turn here_ ,” he said finally, using the hand on Finn’s elbow to pull him around a corner and into a storage space.

“Turn here,” Finn muttered, face twisted in an approximation of a smile. “That’s how all this started, right?”

“And I’m grateful for it every day,” Poe replied. His hand was warm and gentle on Finn’s elbow. Finn pulled his arm away, causing Poe’s frown to deepen. Finn didn’t often reject physical contact. “Talk to me, Finn.”

“I don’t have anything worthwhile to say,” Finn spat back.

“Well, you might not think it’s worth saying, but I’d rather listen to you than pretty much anybody,” Poe replied with a smile. Finn huffed, his heart constricting painfully at the sight of it.

“Even though I say everything wrong?” he asked. The crease between Poe’s eyebrows deepened in confusion.

“That stuff we were talking about in the mess? Nobody expects you to know everything about Resistance history,” Poe replied, stopping when Finn shook his head.

“I do know, though. I mean, I thought I did know. Only it turns out everything I know is a _lie_.” His voice cracked, and Poe’s expression softened.

“Oh, of course. Those bastards,” he murmured. He leaned forward in the confined space, resting his hands lightly on Finn’s arms, just below his shoulders. Finn straightened his spine, trying not to lean into Poe’s touch. He had to learn to stand on his own, to stop taking advantage of Poe’s kindness.

“It’s fine. I’ll just...I’ll relearn all of it,” he said, words sharp and determined. “Is there a library on the base somewhere?”

“Naw, but I tell you what, we’ll make you one,” Poe replied. Finn’s eyes went wide and he backed up, shaking his head.

“That’s too much, Poe, I can’t-”

“It’s not enough,” Poe replied, voice like steel wrapped in velvet. “Not nearly enough to make up for everything the Order did to you. But it’s something we can all do, all the people on the base who care about you-”

“So just you, then,” Finn said, trying not to sound too bitter and failing. Poe’s hands squeezed his arms, and he felt himself swaying forward.

“All of us,” Poe insisted. He slid a hand up Finn’s arm, tugged on his shoulder. “Now stop freaking out and let me give you a hug, you dork.”

“Okay,” Finn mumbled into the fabric of Poe’s undershirt, mouth already pressed to his shoulder. He brought his arms up to Poe’s back, holding them still for a moment until Poe’s hand rubbed over his hair. Then he melted into the hug, tightening his arms around Poe’s waist. 

“Don’t worry. With how fast you learn, you’ll be the base’s leading historian by next month,” Poe said against his shoulder. He snorted and considered pulling back, but Poe’s arms were warm around his shoulders and he had some time. He tugged Poe in tighter.

 

 

Poe wasn’t kidding when he’d said he was going to get everyone on the base in on their history lessons. A week later and Finn had two stacks of holos as high as his desk itself. Jessika and Snap had given him some “historic novelizations” of the events of the rebel war that had cover pictures of scantily-clad princesses fainting in the arms of muscle-bound mercenaries. He’d blushed profusely when he found out the image was meant to feature Generals Organa and Solo, hiding that one at the bottom of the pile and only sneaking glances at it when he was sure Poe and BB-8 had no chance of busting in on him. Dr. Kalonia had leant her own collection of writings by Senators of the Old Republic, which had been particularly interesting, but not particularly fun. Poe managed to find the best stories, personal accounts backed up by facts and figures, and eye-witness accounts of space battles that Finn devoured happily.

He was deeply ensconced in one such story when General Organa made her own contribution.

Finn didn’t register her first knock on the door. It wasn’t until there was a second, sharper knock that he looked up, immediately feeling guilty. Poe and BB-8 both had access codes and Jess and Snap tended to pound loudly on the door until it opened, so he scrambled to his feet and then stood at attention before pressing the button to open the door.

His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw the General standing there.

She was dressed down, he knew, wearing a simple gown and braid. She smiled up at him as he opened the door, radiating warmth and power, and he wondered at how her mere presence always made him feel overwhelmed. He mouthed soundlessly for a moment before collecting his wits.

“At your command, General,” he barked, standing straighter. His hand twitched towards his head to salute, then he thought better of it, holding his arm straight at his side.

“Relax, Finn. I’m not here on official business. Poe told me you were interested in learning about the Restistance, and I wanted to bring these to you personally,” General Organa said kindly. She held out two expensive-looking holos, and Finn stared at them for a moment. “Do you mind inviting me in? I’ve had a long day.”

“Oh, um. Of course. Just...please, come...sit…” Finn stammered, stepping back from the door. He thanked his lucky stars and years of training that had left him with a tidy bunk for the General to inspect.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping inside and looking around. Finn’s back stayed straight as an arrow, arms by his sides as he endured the inspection. “You know, you are allowed to personalize your bunk...though I suppose you don’t have much to personalize it with. I’m sure Poe wouldn’t mind helping with that.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble the Captain, General. I’m sure he has more important things to do,” Finn said to the wall. General Organa looked up at him, then, to his shock, laid a hand on his forearm.

“Finn. Call me Leia, please. And sit down before you do permanent damage to that injured spine of yours,” she drawled. Finn obeyed immediately, dropping into a chair at the table, back still ramrod straight. “Oh, for crying out loud. Be at ease in your own bunk.

“Yes ma’am,” Finn replied. Cleared his throat. “Leia.” The word felt strange in his mouth. To his surprise, the General - Leia - chuckled.

“We’ll work on it,” she said, completely deadpan, and sat in the seat opposite him. “I talked to my brother yesterday. He seemed to think he’d upset you by laughing.” Finn felt his neck flush.

“I was...I said something inappropriate. I’m sure I upset him…” he said, tripping over his words. Leia chuckled.

“Believe me, Luke’s heard worse in his life. I think he was more amused about what the First Order are saying about him than anything else. He wants me to find out exactly what kind of monster they’re making him out to be.”

“Somewhere between a serial baby killer and an ineffectual old magician, really,” Finn replied, his honesty startling a laugh out of Leia.

“And if I tell you my brother’s never killed a baby in his life, will you believe me?” she asked, voice dry as the sands of Jakku. Finn nodded so hard he popped his neck. “It’s alright if it takes you a while to believe all the new things you’re learning, Finn. Nobody expects you to throw off a lifetime of conditioning after only 43 days as a member of the Resistance.” Finn’s eyes widened in shock.

“How do you know-”

“How many days you’ve been awake with us?” Leia interrupted wryly. “Poe mentioned there were a number of people who care about you and want you to know the truth, Finn. Or at least, the truth as we see it.” Finn ducked his head, staring at the tabletop, hand absently rubbing his shoulder where Kylo Ren’s lightsaber had left its mark.

“I know they lied. I figured that out...even before that day on Jakku, I think,” he said, as much to himself as to Leia. “I had no idea just how much they lied to keep us in line, though. If they all knew…” He trailed off as Leia’s hand came up to cover his own on his shoulder.

“My son has a vested interest in keeping that information from his underlings,” she said, sadness laced through her words. “You’re entirely remarkable for breaking his spell. If there’s anything at all you want to ask me…” Finn looked up to see hope reflected in Leia’s gaze. He cast his mind around to find something, anything to ask, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Did you and Han Solo really get married by a Twi’lek smuggler to avoid getting thrown in jail?” he asked. Leia laughed until she cried, then spent the next half hour setting the record straight.


	3. mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working for the Resistance is different from the First Order in more ways than one.

What struck Finn the most about being in the Resistance was how dirty it was.

Being a Stormtrooper was order, neatness, discipline. Being in the Resistance was chaos, mess, improvisation. It was pilots’ helmets with symbols painted on, casual hands on Finn’s shoulders, a clumsy clash of colors as everyone wore clothes from their own cultures, desires, interests. The First Order had stripped all that away. There was only red, black, and white. Scrubbed down daily, clean and pristine, in perfect working order. There, if a spanner jammed up the works, a Trooper was sent in to retrieve it. If the Trooper died, then they would have been sacrificed for the greater good of the Order. The Resistance seemed to favor “kick it and hope it fixes itself” until later, until safety was established and the precious, indelible life that was sent in to fix it would be protected.

Sometimes, it all overwhelmed Finn so much that he got the spins.

Finn worked as a mechanic for a couple of weeks, trying to find his place. It probably wasn’t going to be as a mechanic. For one thing, his back protested too much and too often. He could grit his teeth and bear down for now, though, with a full squad of X-wings out of commission until everyone pulled together to get them spaceworthy again. For another, he couldn’t get the hang of the different tools and parts that fit together to make things work. His mind didn’t work that way; that was Rey, brilliant Rey, who could always see how things fit. Finn worked more by instinct.

More than anything, though, it was the dirt that Finn hated.

The oil and grit that under his nails. The sheen that settled on his skin, shiny and hot, that felt too much like plastic armor, trapping him inside. The pulled nails and scraped skin that marred his hands. It was too messy, filthy really, and one afternoon when the sun bore down on his back and his sweat mixed with engine grease and dripped down his nose into his mouth, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Stomach lurching, vision blurred, Finn ran to the bank of soldiers’ refreshers, ducking everyone’s gazes for fear that they’d see how dirty he was.

The moment he reached the ‘freshers, Finn stripped out of his grease-caked clothes, his bare feet slapping the tiles as he ran for a stall. He turned the water on hard so that it bore down on his face and neck, relishing the sting. He looked down, the grease and oil swirling down the drain, black. Something pressed against his chest. He looked down at his body, at his arms, vicious grease stains clinging to his skin until they looked like they were part of him.

Like maybe it hadn’t been the base that was dirty after all, but just him, Finn, all along. FN-2187. A greasy spot on the Resistance, useless.

Finn turned up the heat until it scalded his shoulders. He pulled a sponge off the rack and raked it over his arms, taking vicious pleasure in the coarse scraping, the red marks it left behind. Let it purge it from him, this infection he’d brought into the Resistance.

Someone grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his skin. He let out a hoarse cry and pulled away. He could feel the words he yelled reverberating in his skull - _let me do this, let me be clean, please_ \- as he backed into the corner.

Finn’s shoulder hit the tiles hard, too hard, pain spiking down his back and up into his head, making the dizziness worse. Scalding hot water streamed into his mouth and nose. He was drowning, drowning, and he slid down the wall to curl up on the stone floor. Water streamed down his head and pooled around him. The world was spinning and he couldn’t breathe, he _couldn’t breathe…_

Somewhere, down a long tunnel or maybe right beside him, someone was swearing. A hand touched the frayed skin of Finn’s arm. He pulled back, fought, screamed _I’ll fix it, don’t take me, please_. He could be fine. He tried to get his feet under him, but they slipped in the water on the floor, sending him tumbling, his head cracking against the stone...

“Finn.”

Finn’s head swam, his chest tightened, and he couldn’t get a breath in. That voice. It was familiar.

“Finn, look at me,” the voice said again, warm, calm. It was somewhere above him. He swiveled his head, caught a glimpse of brown eyes. “Hey, buddy. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t- Is that an order?” Finn choked out. Tried to get air back into his lungs so he could speak again, because that voice, those eyes were Poe’s. Poe was dead, right? The TIE fighter had crashed, Poe had died… “You can’t be here.”

“You want me to go? I can get someone else,” Poe replied. He was already moving away, the eyes and the voice going distant. Finn shook his head. There was a whining sound coming from somewhere, like a dying animal. It was awful. It was _him_.

“Poe, no, don’t go - don’t leave me again…” he wheezed. 

“Whoa. Okay, staying right here, buddy,” Poe replied softly. “Open your eyes, Finn. Look at me.” That sounded more like an order, so Finn snapped his eyes open. Poe was there. Poe was alive, Finn remembered now, remembered seeing him again on that tarmac, then in the hospital bay. It felt like this every time, like the sun rising in his chest. Warmth filled him. “That’s it, breathe. In and out, nice and slow.”

“Poe,” Finn whispered. Took a stuttering breath in. It left him with a _whoosh_ , and then he had to breath in faster to compensate. Keep going.

“No, no, slow. Come on, like me,” Poe said. He took a long, exaggerated breath in, eyes fixed on Finn. Finn dropped his gaze to Poe’s mouth, his chest, watching the rise and fall. Poe looked worried. He wanted Finn to do this. Finn forced his body to comply, to copy Poe’s actions. As his vision started to return, the delusions fading, his eyes darted to the side, reestablishing where he was. Bathroom. ‘Fresher stall. The water had stopped.

“The water stopped,” he said, then felt stupid. Poe was crouched in front of him, totally dry. He knew the water had stopped.

“Don’t worry about it. Concentrate on breathing, okay? Keep watching me,” Poe encouraged him. Finn nodded, turning his gaze to Poe’s again and breathing, breathing.

A few minutes later, Finn’s mind was back. Embarrassment followed in hot pursuit. He dropped his gaze to his knees, bare and slick with water.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. Shame pressed against his throat and filled his eyes with tears.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Poe said calmly. Finn saw movement out of the corner of his eye. “Is it okay if I touch you now?” Finn nodded, and Poe reached for his shoulder, landing on his damp skin gently. Finn’s eyebrows furrowed at the skin to skin contact, and then he looked up, shocked.

“I’m naked,” he blurted out. Poe tilted his head to the side and laughed, then covered his mouth with one hand.

“Sorry. Yeah, I mean, I had noticed. I’m not here to get an eyeful, man.” Poe’s voice was kind, and he gave Finn’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“It’s so incredibly not okay,” Finn muttered. Poe shrugged.

“If you can stand up, I’ll get you a towel and we can get out of here,” he offered. Stood back and held out a hand. Finn moved forwards, held out his own hand. Stubborn oil marks stained his nails. _Filth, scum, traitor_ screamed in his head and pain screamed in his back. He dropped back with a groan and watched Poe’s eyes fill with concern.

“I don’t think standing up is a good plan,” Finn said through gritted teeth. Poe nodded, crouching in front of Finn again.

“It’s okay. We don’t have anywhere we need to be right now. But my knees are kinda killing me, so can I sit with you?” Poe asked. Finn half-shrugged, burning face turned away.

“This is so stupid. I’m so-” Finn began. Poe thumped down to the wet stone floor beside him and clamped a hand on to his shoulder.

“Cut that out,” Poe reprimanded him, but his voice was still kind and warm, like honey. “After everything you’ve been through, one panic attack is nothing.”

“Stormtroopers don’t _panic_ ,” Finn protested. “If we’re broken, we get sent to be fixed.”

“Good thing you’re not a stormtrooper, then,” Poe said. There was a hard edge to his words now, one that made Finn curl in further on himself. His knees were tucked almost to his chest, hands on his shins. Poe sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, buddy. This...none of this is your fault, okay? I just don’t like to see you hurt yourself.”

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Finn asked quietly. Poe’s hand tensed for a moment, then slid around Finn’s back, tucking Finn against his side. Finn thought for a moment of pulling away, but he could feel Poe’s warmth seeping through his skin at the touch.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about,” Poe said. There was no hint of a lie in his smooth, even voice.

“I’m naked,” Finn said again. Poe laughed again, and irritation prickled at the back of Finn’s neck. “It’s not funny.”

“No, I know,” Poe replied. He rubbed his fingers soothingly against Finn’s upper arm, where the skin was unblemished. “I’m sorry. I just...man, if you knew some of the things I’ve done when I was naked,” he continued. At that, Finn’s head whipped around, eyes wide in shock. Poe laughed again.

“Like what?” Finn asked, pulling his knees closer to himself. Poe bit his lip and rested his free hand over Finn’s on his knee.

“Well, fly my X-wing, for starters,” he said. The warmth of a laugh was still in his voice. Finn’s jaw dropped even lower.

“You didn’t,” he said, scandalized.

“It wasn’t really my fault,” Poe replied. “I was camping on Naboo. I had a rendezvous the next day, and I parked the ship right next to this really gorgeous natural pool, totally secluded. It was amazing, Finn, easily one of the best places I’ve ever flown to. So I decided to go for a swim. Only then I hear Pava’s voice from the cockpit. The First Order picked that exact day to try to take Naboo back for the Empire, and she was under attack. I ran out to get my clothes, but the wind had blown them somewhere, I don’t even know. Only my socks, boots, and helmet were left.”

“No,” Finn breathed. An image of Poe, naked and glistening beside a pool, sprang to his mind unbidden. He inhaled sharply and turned his gaze back to his knees again. Poe’s hand was light against his skin, Poe’s fingers slipping between his. He flushed.

“You okay? Need me to stop?” Poe asked, concerned. 

“No,” Finn replied. Forced himself to keep breathing.

“Okay,” Poe said quietly. He didn’t speak for another moment, and Finn could feel his gaze. He smiled shakily.

“I want to hear the rest of the story,” he pushed, hoping his voice didn’t sound too strained.

“Oh, yeah. So I put on what I had and ran to the ship, looking like an idiot. I managed to get Pava out, and we called for reinforcements. I almost wanted to get shot down, so at least I might be able to land somewhere that nobody could see me. No such luck. I had to get out of the damn ship in front of my whole squad in nothing but my boots.” Poe laughed. After a moment, the image of a naked Poe faded and Finn could picture the looks on the other pilots’ faces instead. He managed a weak chuckle. Poe seemed encouraged by this, and gave Finn another squeeze. “Ready to try standing up again?”

“No,” Finn said automatically. He winced. “I- I can’t-”

“Hey, no problem,” Poe said, easy as breathing. “All the cool kids are hanging out in the ‘freshers these days, haven’t you heard that?”

“No,” Finn said tightly. The thought of Poe’s squads’ expressions when they saw Poe naked had morphed into imagining what they might look like if they saw Finn like this, if they were outside the refresher block right now. Anyone might be out there, anyone might have been there before...the story could be spreading across the base already. The ex-trooper had freaked out naked on the refresher floor, _dirty, wrong_. Maybe it had even reached the General...what she would do if she found out…probably send him away. A broken soldier is a useless soldier, after all. His chest was tight, and he sucked in a breath.

“Whoa, whoa, Finn, hey. Where did this come from? Breathe,” said Poe’s concerned voice, so close to his ear. Poe, who had been so patient with Finn’s weakness. Every moment he stayed here he was wasting a little more of Poe’s time. Finn made a desperate sound in the back of his throat and leaned away, but Poe’s arms stayed strong. The hand on his arm slid down further, turning and tucking him tighter against Poe. “I’m right here, buddy. Come on, now.”

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled pathetically into Poe’s shirt. It was damp, now. Most of Poe’s clothes were, from sitting in the wet stall, and Finn felt terrible for it. “Your clothes.”

“They’re just clothes. I’ll wash ‘em after,” Poe said softly. “You’re more important.”

“Okay,” Finn said, unconvinced. 

“You _are_ , Finn,” Poe insisted. He nudged Finn back again so he could look at Finn’s face. His mouth was pinched in concern, his eyes wide and searching. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” Finn said. Poe winced, opened his mouth to talk again. Finn interrupted. “Maybe.” He looked at Poe, who smiled back, open and encouraging. He was so patient, Poe, and so kind, and even though Finn’s skin burned and his bare ass was going numb against the cold, wet stone floor, Poe was acting like this was the most normal thing in the world. Finn’s cold humiliation bumped up against Poe’s warm kindness and melted away.

“We can stay here as long as you want,” Poe said, as if reading Finn’s mind. “I can wait.”

“How can you stand it?” Finn asked, dropping his head again. Poe let the question hang. “This, the chaos, the Resistance...it’s so much.”

“Too much?” Poe let the words drop into Finn’s hair.

“It’s...I’m broken,” Finn began. Poe hummed his dissent, and Finn let the words tumble out before Poe could stop him. “I thought it was this place that was dirty, but it’s not, it’s me, it’s what I bring here. In the Order, it was all clean. Tidy. And if you didn’t fit that, if you were messy…”

“Buddy,” Poe whispered like an oath. His arm tightened around Finn’s shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest in Finn’s hair. “Being human is messy. And you’re perfectly, wonderfully human. You brought that to us.”

“I know I say everything wrong. I know people don’t want me here,” Finn said, hating how small the words came out. How stupid he felt. Poe scrubbed a hand over his hair, squeezed the back of his neck.

“I want you here,” Poe said, and it sounded like a secret. Finn tipped his head back so he could meet Poe’s eyes. His breath hitched at the intensity in Poe’s gaze. “Mess and all.”

“Even now?” The question was out before Finn could think it through or take it back. He winced.

“Especially now,” Poe said, smiling. Finn smiled back hesitantly. The smile wavered as he remembered where they were. Poe’s arms encircled him now, and they were pressed tightly together, Finn’s rapidly cooling skin pressed against Poe’s damp shirt from hips to shoulders. Finn let himself linger for only a moment longer before pulling back. The skin on his left forearm was bleeding sluggishly through shallow scrapes, and he frowned at it, feeling betrayed by the physical reminder of his moment of weakness. “I’ll get you a towel, pal, hold on.” And then the warmth of Poe’s body was abruptly gone. Feeling bereft, Finn curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees again as the seconds ticked by. Poe’s shoes slipped a little on the wet floor when he returned, holding out a large pink towel. Looking up, Finn saw that Poe was turned away, holding his arm out to the side, towel clutched in his fingers.

“You don’t have to-” Finn mumbled, moving his legs to stand. He tried to get all his limbs to cooperate, to push him off the floor, but his back tugged uncomfortably in protest, causing his feet to slip. Poe knelt down and wrapped an arm around Finn’s, eyes trained carefully on Finn’s face.

“I know I said we could stay here all day, but it’s getting pretty cold. My quarters are a lot warmer,” Poe said, smiling warmly. “Let’s keep talking there, huh?” He took on too much of Finn’s weight as they stood (always too much, the burden of Finn’s past weighing heavy on Poe’s shoulders). Once he was standing, Finn took the towel from Poe’s outstretched fingers. Poe turned around while Finn dried himself, fetching Finn’s clothes from the communal space beyond and giving Finn privacy. Finn dried himself, wrapped the towel around himself, and stared at the floor, waiting for Poe. His eyes were scratchy and his cheeks still felt too warm, and for some reason he couldn’t convince his neck to raise his head.

A minute later, his grease-caked clothes swam into view. He tried to push through it, take them to put them on. Tried to make himself remember that they were just clothes, it was just grease, nothing he hadn’t seen or felt a hundred times before.

His hand fell back uselessly to his side.

“You don’t want to put them on?” Poe asked, gentle, so gentle, and Finn cringed. “No, it’s okay, just...can you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so we can work out a way to move forward?”

“They’re dirty,” Finn said. His voice was too high, like a child’s.

“Too messy,” Poe breathed. The offending clothes vanished from Finn’s view. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes from my bunk, it’s closer. I’ll only be a few minutes.” He gave Finn’s shoulder a squeeze, and then he was gone.

 

It took a minute for Finn to step out of the ‘fresher stall and into the communal area, clutching his towel against him awkwardly. He’d been naked around other people all the time as a Stormtrooper, no privacy in the bank of ‘freshers there, but somehow he felt so much more exposed now. Like a stain on the bench he sat on. He stared at the floor and counted his breaths as he waited for Poe to return. Seventy breaths later, Poe placed clean, soft sweats next to him. Poe’s shoes moved to stand directly in front of Finn, close enough to touch. Finn didn’t move.

“Did I make the wrong choice? You’re a little bigger than me, I didn’t want you to end up walking out of here in pants that stopped at your ankles,” Poe said warmly.

“I’m sorry,” Finn muttered at Poe’s shoes.

“For my crappy taste in clothes? I think I inherited that one from my dad. I only had one decent jacket, and it turns out it looks way better on you anyway.” Poe reached a hand out into Finn’s view. “Let’s go somewhere more private, get some food into you, maybe comb your hair. Get you feeling human again, huh?”

“Poe-” Finn started. Gratitude and embarrassment welled up in him, pressing against his ribs. “Don’t you have better things to do than babysitting me?”

“Nothing better to do in the world than hang out with my best buddy,” Poe said cheerfully. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Finn’s elbow. “C’mon, up.”

Finn let Poe pull him to his feet, watched Poe turn around again. He felt like saying something, _you don’t have to_ or _I’m fine_ or _just leave already_ , but instead he pulled on the clothes that Poe had brought him. The pants fit fine, the sweater a little snug but nothing he couldn’t handle. When he was dressed he dropped the towel in the hamper and cleared his throat.

“I think I can go back to my bunk now. Thank you, Poe,” he said. It came out stiff and formal, not nearly as grateful as he’d like. Poe frowned.

“I don’t think it’s a great idea for you to be alone right now,” he said. “If you don’t want to talk to me, I can take you to go see one of the psychologists…”

“No,” Finn said hurriedly, taking Poe aback. “No, it’s- I’d rather talk to you.” A smile broke out on Poe’s face then, and he nodded, gesturing for the door.

“Then lead the way. Your bunk or mine, I don’t care,” Poe encouraged. Finn’s feet took him to Poe’s bunk without him making the conscious decision, and he waited outside while Poe opened it up and attempted to tidy up the mess. He found, oddly, that he didn’t care about the mess in Poe’s room. It didn’t feel dirty, not like the grease in his hair had. It felt...comforting, familiar.

He walked inside before Poe was done.

“Hey, come on, I’m not done cleaning yet, I don’t want to upset you,” Poe said, stepping in front of Finn. For the first time in a while, Finn smiled.

“No, don’t. It’s...I like _your_ mess,” Finn said slowly. Poe’s eyes went wide for a moment, then he snorted and nudged his shoulder against Finn’s.

“Yeah, well, I like your mess too, buddy,” Poe said, and the vice that had gripped Finn’s insides since the tarmac finally loosened. He felt light-headed for a moment with the relief and dropped onto Poe’s bunk, tucking his bare feet under him. Poe ran a hand through his hair, tilted his head at Finn. Finn felt for a moment like a particularly complicated puzzle. He didn’t much like the feeling.

“What?” he mumbled, picking at Poe’s blanket. Poe shook his head and the look was gone, replaced with a patented Poe Dameron dazzling smile.

“Nothing much. Just you,” Poe replied, and Finn frowned. Opened his mouth to speak, but Poe interrupted. “I still think we should talk more about...you know, before, but I bet you’re starving, and Jess is out to get me so I think we should avoid the canteen. I have some soup I can heat up in here. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Finn said with little enthusiasm. Poe bustled around with enough energy for the both of them, heating the can of soup and pouring it into two bowls, chatting the whole time. Finn pulled the blanket from atop Poe’s bed and draped it over his knees, fighting the chill he still felt in his skin. Poe managed to hand Finn a bowl and settle on the bed beside Finn without spilling a drop, moving with a languid grace. Finn shifted once, and a traitorous drop of soup fell to the blanket over his knees. The moment froze, Finn’s heartbeat hammering in his chest, and he looked over at Poe wide-eyed.

“Oh. It’s no problem, buddy, it’s fine, it’ll come right out,” Poe was saying, sliding the blanket away from Finn to put in the laundry. Finn reached out with the hand not holding the bowl and encircled Poe’s wrist with his fingers.

“It’s okay. It’s warm,” he said around a lump in his throat. Poe watched him carefully. “Hey, do you think you could get BB-8 to play a holo for us while we eat?” he asked, settling against the wall. Poe looked at him, holding his gaze just long enough to make him start to squirm uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” Poe said eventually. It was soft, and he sounded vaguely impressed, like Finn had just saved a planet. “Yeah, I think that’s something I can do.”


End file.
